


Soul Eater: Kishin of God

by Jay_aWriter



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Multi, OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2691857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_aWriter/pseuds/Jay_aWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man sat in the chair, and did not move at all. Not a thing sat in the pews, and not a heart in the balconies. Only he was in this enormous church. Finally, his lips unfurled, uncovering sharp rows of teeth in a smile that mocked the moon’s. The man laughed a scratchy, high chuckle. He spoke only four words. “Bring me their souls.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction.

INTRODUCTION.   
Clouds rolled slowly through the night sky. The smiling moon rocked to and fro against its black background. Blood flowed from its sick, twisting smile, but still never did it touch the ground of the earth. The moon looked over the town below it, with its menacing eye.  
Not a lot in this town was thrilling. It was pretty much be seen as….boring. Boring cobblestone roads. Boring small apartments. There were boring cafes with boring people who talked about boring things in their boring lives. Not much in this town was exciting. It was a quiet, lazy town. Except, one thing in this sluggish, dawdling town did stand out. It was the tallest building in the town. Everything surrounded this skyscraping tower. The cathedral.  
The cathedral was old. It was possibly the eldest thing that stood in the town. It was made up of nothing but rusty brown bricks with cracks that ran their length across the construction. Cracks that had formed from harsh weather beating the church over the decades it had lasted. On the sides of its walls were vines that weaved, and worked their way through the cracks and openings in the church, intertwining and climbing up the wall and across the stained glass windows until they disappeared beneath the roof.   
It had been abandoned for years, yet never boarded up. And for some reason, the town always kept its lawn cut, and taken care of. The grounds were ancient, but still respected.   
The inside of the cathedral was in ruins. The sanctuary itself was a mess. Dust swayed through the air, and books with tattered covers and yellow, brittle pages that had been exposed to the sun for too long filled the ground. It smelled of a strong mildew in the air. Wooden pews withered away, row after row. The staircases that led to an upper level had fallen apart, the stone scattered in pieces on the ground. Tall columns that had once held up the balcony above the sanctuary had shattered, bringing down the upper level with it.   
On the ceiling were numerous intrinsic pictures. So many drawings and symbols and a barrage of flashing colors, depicting different events covered the top. Stories. Stories had been drawn across the ceiling.  
One portrayed a man with a woman, hand in hand. Next to it was the same man, but the woman was glowing. Then, there was only the man without the woman. The man held a spear in his hand. Then the man was fighting a monster and had speared it. The next scene was the man with the woman again. She held a red flame above her head as if she was about to drop it into her mouth. 

Another drawing showed the man with the spear again, but this time he had a beard and was surrounded by more people with spears and red flames surrounding them. Visual stories like those stretched across the ceiling. 

Other than the stories that held so much history and wreckage that littered the floor, there was one more asset. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, right above a pedestal. The little light that was casted in between the vines shone across the chandelier. The chandelier illuminated the pedestal below. That was the only thing in the church that the light found. The rest was in shadows.   
Behind that pedestal, hidden in shadows, was a wooden chair with red silk seating. And seated in that chair was an old man with a gray, curling beard and a black robe. This man was dressed exactly like a priest. He had a wrinkly, pale face, with black heads dotting across his cheeks and a long, pointy nose that stuck out of his face. His eyes were closed and he was leaning his head on a large, wrinkly fist. A golden necklace with a cross reflected the light from the chandelier.  
The man sat in the chair, and did not move at all. Not a thing sat in the pews, and not a heart in the balconies. Only he was in this enormous church. Finally, his lips unfurled, uncovering sharp rows of teeth in a smile that mocked the moon’s. The man laughed a scratchy, high chuckle.  
He spoke only four words. 

 

 

 

 

 

“Bring me their souls.”


	2. 1. THE SWORDSMAN AND HIS BLADE.

CHAPTER 1. THE SWORDSMAN AND HIS BLADE.   
The city was alive on Friday night. Giant skyscrapers filled the sky, with blinding lights flashing in the faces’ of people as they rushed past. Crowds clogged the streets. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to go, and if not, they walked slow and gave their attention to the street markets with tables filled with bracelets and necklaces, and artists who drew pictures of others as cartoons. Their voices filled the air.   
Two figures stood atop of one of these skyscrapers, watching the bodies zoom by. One sat on the edge of the building, and the other one stood. They were silhouettes against the smiling moon that rocked back and forth.   
“We’ve been waiting here for hours,” the one sitting down said, “and still no damn kishin egg. I thought this mission wouldn’t be boring but boy was I wrong.” He frowned, and ran his fingers through his hair. The one standing next to him did not speak. He just continued to glare at the street below.   
“Y’know, Al, you not responding is boring. You should say something,” the boy sitting said again to the one standing, Al.   
Al was a tall teenager, looking to be about 6’1. He had black, silky hair put into a combover with the sides cut. He looked Hispanic, with tan skin and sharp features on a rough, apathetic face. He had icy, cold, blue eyes that pierced whatever he looked at. He wore a white dress shirt beneath a blue sweater vest with tan chinos and a pair of black Vans.   
“We’re on a mission. Talking isn’t a priority right now, Jack,” Al said. His stoic expression had not changed at all.   
Jack was the complete opposite of his partner. He had a toothy grin plastered on his face that anybody could recognize from miles away. His maroon eyes sparked anyone’s interest, for they were always filled with excitement and a thirst for adventure.   
Jack was African American, with chocolate, smooth skin and a lean, but muscular body. His hair was a short, nappy afro that stuck out here and there. He wore a red shirt that hung loose on his body and a black hoodie to go with it. Jack also sported black jeans and black sneakers with a black bandana tied around his head with little red Aries signs on it.   
Jack yawned, and stretched out from his seat on the ledge. He smacked his lips together for a bit, and then turned to Al.   
“There’s nothing happening. How do we even know it’s here anymore?” Jack said. “Lord Death just said that it was last seen in the city. That little shit could be long gone by now.” Al did not reply. He stayed motionless, eyes intent on the ground below.   
“The least you could do is peek over here—“

 

Jack’s sentence was cut short by the gruff yell of a man. Many more screams came directly after. Jack sniffled, and then grinned. He looked in the direction that the screams had come from, and saw people racing away from a café. Men and women poured out of the doors and onto the street with terrified yells and screams of “Help”.   
Jack stood up, and rotated his neck around. He then crouched down, and leapt high into the air. His body began to glow white, and soon turned into a streak that took another form. A blur in the sky, the white streak that was Jack had the shape of a sword, and solidified into that in Al’s palm.   
The sword was peculiar. It had a long, double-edged black blade with no evidence of overuse or dullness. On both sides of the blade was a symbol of a white, cartoonish like skull. The hilt was wrapped in bandages and had a small cross at the bottom of it.   
Al turned the blade, and it reflected the moonlight. In the reflection on the blade was Jack, staring up at his meister.   
“I’m not saying that’s him. But if it is, let’s get going cuz’ I’m starved!” Jack said. Al replied with a “hmph” and then leapt down from the building. He fell down through an alley, the ground rushing up at him quickly. It looked like Al was going to splat on the cement until he stuck the blade out, and it caught onto a telephone line. Jack grasped onto the blade and tightly held the hilt, sliding across the line towards the sudden disturbance in the night.   
Al let go of the blade, and then made his fall to the ground softer. Al rolled and then hopped up, rushing to the café entrance. The door to the place had been ripped off its hinges, and lay on the ground, broken in half.   
The inside looked like the restaurant had been raided. Chairs and tables were overturned. Mugs shattered on the ground. Food and the contents of what had been in cups were staining the carpet. Red liquid was splashed on the walls and windows, accompanied with slash marks that had to be made with an animal’s claws. Bodies were also scattered on the floor, wading in pools of blood. There were slash marks much like the ones on the wall on them. Above the bodies were blue, hovering spheres. Human souls.   
“Looks like it started the party without us,” Jack said. Al stepped farther into the café, and looked around. Nothing in there seemed to be alive. Everything was silent. Al gradually made his way to the center of the desecrated area but still found nothing. He crouched down, resting Jack’s sword form on his shoulder.   
“He couldn’t have left. There’s no way he escaped before we got here,” Al mumbled to himself. His eyes darted across the room for any clues that their target was still in the facility. But nothing stood out to Al.   
“Jack, did you see anything when we walked in?”   
“Well, besides the goddamn kishin on the ceiling that’s been drooling on me for the past few minutes, nothing too out of the blue.” 

 

Al’s head shot up, and right above him was their target. Clinging to the ceiling was a man, breathing heavy. He had a slack jaw, and saliva was dripping out of it. He had giant hands with animal-like claws that dug into the wood of the ceiling which helped him to stay there. With a closer look, Al could see the blood on his hands. His eyes were menacing, but held a far way look in them at the same time.  
“Well then, looks like our job just got easier…” Al said, as he slowly stood up. His relax stance had now become serious. His muscles were tense. It was time to do what he had come here to do.   
“Johnny Myers, your days of taking human souls are over. I, Alejandro Salvador, have come to claim your soul!” Al said, and swiped the sword across his body. Johnny Myers screeched at Alejandro and shot down from the ceiling at him.   
Al anticipated this, and quickly jumped back as Johnny crashed in the ground. Johnny hopped up, and his entire body twitched. His head spun around, and eyed Al and Jack. His jaw flapped around, and drool dripped out. Johnny Myers pushed off of his heel, thrusting his claws at Al with great speed. Al was just was quick. He brought the flat side of the sword up to deflect the hand of Johnny Myers, and stepped back. Johnny Myers brought his other hand up, and Al deflected that as well. Johnny Myers kept pushing forward and swinging his claws, backing up Al who kept dodging the oncoming assault of Johnny Myers.   
Al saw yet another swing and blocked it. The blade clashed with the claws, and both were now pushing against each other. Johnny Myers’ head twitched back and forth as he forced his claws against the sword that was Jack. Al was shaking, struggling to keep Johnny Myers back. Al pushed with all the power he could but was taken by surprise when Johnny swung the back of his other hand into the blade with a great might, sending Al and Jack flying through the window behind them.   
Al crashed through it, and let go of Jack when he did. He skidded across the cement street, flopping around and frightening people who walked by the café, unknowing of the battle going on until now. Johnny Myers hopped out of the broken window too, his jaw flapping uncontrollably while his head twitched horrendously in positions a normal neck would not allow. Johnny Myers had his head spun around, so he looked backwards but bent it up to look at Al on the floor.   
“Hey, Al. Now isn’t the time for sitting the hell around! Get up!” Jack yelled. Al got up, and picked up Jack. Johnny Myers stood in front of the café for some time, flexing his claws, breathing hard. Al waited. Johnny Myers still stood there, his body moving eccentrically. Al continued to wait.  
Then, Johnny Myers body stopped entirely. He was still. Al watched curiously. The monster in front of the meister and weapon had even stopped breathing. His warped grin had turned into a horrendous frown. Almost as if he was scared of something. Everything had stopped moving. Nobody spoke. Time was immobile.   
But just as quickly as the creature had stopped, Johnny Myers’ mouth opened wide, and he let out a blood-curdling, high screech that shattered windows of apartments, and cars and the café behind it. Car alarms went off, beeping and buzzing loudly. Johnny rushed forward to Al, still emitting the terrifying screech. Al stood where he was. Johnny had come in front of him, but then Al was gone. Johnny ripped through nothingness. 

In that moment, Al appeared behind Johnny, his left hand holding Jack, and his right hand on the back of the creature.   
“You’re mine,” Al whispered. Then, a static discharge erupted from his palm into the body of Johnny Myers, sending him flying through the air. His body slammed into a building, and Al was right behind him, blade already up. Johnny Myers had no time to even remove himself from the wall as the blade ran him through. It slid through Myers’ skin with ease, severing his heart and killing the demonic man.   
The body of Johnny Myers began to warp, and soon spun around in a cyclone until nothing was there. Left in the place of where his body had once been was now a floating red orb. A kishin egg. The very soul of a kishin.   
Al stepped back, and sighed. The blade in his hand began to glow white, and freed itself from his grip. The white light began to take form from a massive blob and became a human. Jack regained his human form next to Al. He reached out for the egg, and cupped it in his hand. He looked back to his partner, and grinned.   
“Bottoms up,” Jack said, and then plopped the kishin’s soul into his mouth, swallowing it in one, big gulp.   
“Tasty,” Jack said, “But it could’ve used a little less homicide and a pinch of salt.” 

. . . 

Jack and Al stood side by side in the Death Room. Before them, there stood a tall, pale man with his hands behind his back. He had a face just as serious as Al’s, with three white stripes going across his hair. He wore a black suit that fit his body perfectly. This man was the headmaster of the DWMA. He was Lord Death, but was better known as Death the Kid.   
Behind him, there stood two women. One was shorter than the other. The taller one wore a white blouse, and a black skirt with black high heels. Her hair was long, and a dirty blonde, reaching down to her back.   
She had a much more mature look in contrast to the other girl, whose face was playful and silly. She was shorter than the first one, and wore the same thing like her. These were Death the Kid’s twin weapons, the Thompson Sisters. They were both his personal “Death Scythes”.   
“I see you were able to complete your mission successfully,” Kid said. Al nodded. Jack grinned and gave Kid a thumbs-up.   
“I thought it was gonna be boring and no fun at all,” Jack said, “But hey, it was pretty damn fun! You got any more?!” Kid smirked. Jack’s want for the adrenaline of adventure amused him. Jack never wanted to be bored, and would always be on the hunt for something to keep him busy. 

 

“Unfortunately for you, Jack, all of our one-star missions are taken. You two should return back to class now,” Kid told them. Jack’s face went from grin to grim.   
“Of course, Lord Death,” Al responded. Jack began to open his mouth, but Jack grabbed him by the hood and dragged his weapon out of the Death Room.   
“That boy seems like a handful to his meister,” Liz said. Kid could only nod in agreement. 

. . . . . . 

While Al had gone to class, Jack decided to skip. He instead went to the library, with the intent to get himself into some trouble. Jack sat on top of one of the bookcases with a bag next to him, looking down at the kids standing under him. Jack chuckled. He opened up the bag, and inside were balloons filled with a blue substance.   
Jack looked at one person below. A blonde girl who had her face stuck in a book. She was the perfect target. She did not know what was about to happen to her. Jack picked up one balloon, and cocked his arm back. He grinned.   
“Watch out below,” he said to himself and then hurled the balloon at her. It hit the back of her head and instantly exploded, covering her in the sticky, blue liquid. She dropped the book, and gasped.   
“What the fuck is this?!” She screamed. Jack doubled over laughing. He had filled the balloons up with blue pen ink. Jack had many resources for his pranks, and an abundance of pen ink was one of them. The girl screamed more, and people came rushing to her, confused. Jack got up, and pointed at the people below.   
“It’s pen ink, doll face! State of the kind, made just for stuff like this!” The girl looked up, and growled. She was infuriated. The others looked up too, and frowned.   
“Jack, get your ass down here right now or I’m coming up there!” she screamed. Jack laughed again, and then shook his head.   
“No can do! I’ve got a long hit list today, darling!” Jack replied. He grabbed his bag, and jumped down from the book case, landing on the other side. He ran and fled out of the library, entering the hall. He looked behind him, laughing like crazy as he sped through the corridor. Jack turned a corner, and narrowly dodged two students. He spun around, out of control, and then slammed into a wall. As he did, he had put his bag between him and the wall, and he ended up popping the rest of his balloons. Jack fell and landed on his butt. His bag dropped to the ground, ink seeping out of it onto the floor. He rubbed his head, and pouted.   
“Aw, damn. There go all my balloons,” Jack said. Then, he heard the sound of a screaming girl that was getting closer. Jack got to his feet, and then began running again. He came to a door, and pulled on the handle. It opened, and he ducked inside, closing it behind him. 

 

Inside, it was fairly dark. Jack could make out the shapes of brooms, and dust pans and other cleaning objects like that. He was in one of the many janitor closets scattered throughout the school. He could still hear the girl screaming his name. Jack gulped as her voice got closer. He did not want her to find him. Outside of the door, he heard footsteps and the girl’s voice.   
“Jack, when I find you, you’re fucking dead!” She said. The footsteps passed by the door. Jack opened it, and peeked out. The girl was at the end of the hall. Jack slipped out of the closet, and went the other direction. He ran to a door that led outside, and ended up on one of the many walkways that wrapped around the school.   
“Jackpot,” Jack said, his mischievous smile plastered onto his face.   
“Now, I can just go back to my room and sleep for the rest of the day,” he said. But, Jack was not going to be so lucky.   
“And where do you think you’re going?” a voice said. Jack’s smile dropped. He knew that voice very well. Jack turned, and standing there was his teacher, Professor Caine.   
Caine was a tall, buff man, about 6’4. He had slicked back, black hair with onyx eyes to match. A bit of stubble sat on his broad, square chin. He wore a white lab coat over a black shirt and black pants. One hand tugged on his black belt buckle, the other in his pocket. Caine was very fond of the color black.   
“Oh, uh….just….back to your class, Professor,” Jack said. Caine’s disappointed expression did not change. He grabbed Jack by the ear, which made him yelp, and started to drag him.   
“Professor Caine, this isn’t cool! People are watching!” Jack mumbled.   
“Well maybe we wouldn’t be going through this if you had been in my class in the first place. Al should have a better influence on you, “Caine replied.   
“Blah, blah, blah,” Jack mocked Caine. “Being in class, and sitting there just to hear you lecture for forever would’ve been boring. I needed something fun to do, Professor Caine.” Caine sighed, and continued to drag his student.   
“Jack, what I say in my class is vital to your development as a weapon and your relationship with your partner,” Caine said, “All of my lessons are to better a meister and weapon pair to be stronger and smarter than they were before. That’s my goal in all of my classes. I want all of my students to be successful. Including you, Jack.” Caine made a point by squeezing Jack’s ear on the last part. They entered a chatty classroom that soon quieted down when they saw their teacher had returned.   
“Take your seat,” Caine said to Jack. He let go of his ear, and shooed him away. Jack rubbed his ear and grumbled as he stomped away to his seat next to Al. Jack plopped down into his seat, and crossed his arms, pouting. Al looked up from the book he had been reading, and looked at his weapon.   
“What was the prank this time?” Al asked, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.   
“Ink balloons. One of my better pranks, if I do say so myself,” Jack replied proudly. His pout turned to his toothy grin, glad that Al had asked. 

 

“Figured. The girl you hit came in here looking for you covered in the stuff,” Al said, and went right back to reading his book. Jack scoffed, and then turned his head away to the window, where he began to day dream.


	3. CHAPTER 2. A SHARP GENTLEMAN AND HIS LADY.

CHAPTER 2. A SHARP GENTLEMAN AND HIS LADY.  
A group of men all stood in a dark alley. They all wore baggy shirts, loose pants, and a beanie on their heads, covering their eyes. All of them had big, greedy smiles with smug expressions. They were surrounding someone else. A redhead girl, much smaller than them, stood in the middle.  
The girl trapped in their circle wore a red dress with black floral patterns across it that came right above her knees. A large black sash was wrapped around her waist with one big bow in the back. Red and black striped sleeves rolled over her hands. Her feet were in black slippers. Her hair was orange-red, and flowed freely down to her bow. Around her neck was a gold necklace, with a blood-red gem attached to it. Her head was dropped down, so the shadows covered her face.  
“Look, girlie, we ain’t really wanna chase ya’ all the way down here,” one of the guy’s said, “but since you wanted ta’ run we had ta’.”  
“And since we had ta’, not only are we gon’ take that pretty necklace, we’re gon’ make sure you can’t go tell no one,” the guy next to the first one said.  
“B-but mister,” the girl said with a frightened voice, “w-wouldn’t you like to play with me?”  
The first one stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.  
“Oh, we gonna play witcha alright,” he said.  
Suddenly the girl’s head snapped up, madness stricken on her face. Large, green, shaking eyes pierced into theirs, causing a few to step back. She greeted them with a warped grin plastered on her face.  
“Good.”  
Her hand swung in an arc to the guy who had stepped forward. Then, the man staggered backwards, hand clutching his chest. His big body blocked their view of the girl, so no else had seen what she’d done.  
“Aye, Boss, you okay?” one of the others’ asked.  
The man, Boss, gave no response. He doubled over, coughed, and then fell to the ground. Blood began to pool around him, and some even trickled out of his mouth. His eyes rolled up into his head. The girl had killed the man. They all wondered how, until they saw in the hand she still held up. The blade of a machete stuck out of her sleeve.  
“Who wants to play with me next?” she asked, as she licked the blood off of her knife. 

 

The guys looked at each, their smiles now confused lines. Then, all at once, they all turned and fled down the alley and out to the streets.  
The girl closed her eyes, and sighed. She began to smile and looked down at the knife in her hand. Her eyes had changed. They were happy now, lacking the darkness they previously held.  
“Meca, were we supposed to let them go?” a voice asked.  
“Their souls were still human,” she replied. She turned the knife over and it reflected the sunlight above. In the knife was the eye of a boy. The knife began to glow white, and the girl, Meca, tossed it into the air. The glowing white knife expanded into a human and landed as a teenage boy.  
He was taller than Meca with an odder atmosphere than he let on. He was pale, almost as pale as Kid was. He wore a navy-blue, hooded-vest over a white t-shirt, black pants, and black sneakers. His hood was up, covering most of his head and some of his hair stuck out, covering one side of his face. His eyes were black, with bags beneath like he never got enough sleep yet his eyelids hung low, making him look always tired.  
“I just did that so I wouldn’t have to fight them,” Meca said, “I didn’t want to harm anyone who wasn’t a kishin.” The boy turned to the red orb floating where the man, Boss, had just been. He shrugged. He grabbed the kishin egg and looked it over with his long, scrawny fingers, caressing the ball gently.  
“We’ve been doing pretty good, right, Lex?” Meca said to the boy as she stepped closer to him.  
“Yeah,” he responded. He squeezed the orb in his hand a bit, and looked up at Meca. She smiled at him. He smiled back.  
“Now, I’m gonna go call Lord Death while you eat that thing,” she said, “I don’t want to watch. It is so gross.”  
Meca bounded out the alley, and rounded the corner. There was a store with a large glass window. She breathed on the window, condescension piled up on the window. She drew numbers with her finger, and repeated them aloud.  
“42-42-564, if you wish to knock on Death's door,” she said. The part of the window were the numbers had been drawn began to ripple, and then an image showed up. It had become something like a small screen, showing another place. In the mirror was Kid.  
“Lord Death, we’ve completed our hunt for Boss, “Meca told Kid. Kid nodded in approval.  
“You and your brother have been working hard lately. At the rate you’ve been collecting souls, Lex could become a Death Scythe in no time.” Kid replied.  
“You really think so?!” Meca exclaimed excitedly.  
Indeed, I do. Even more, I believe you two could afford a day off from the rest of your classes when you return. Relax. You two have so a lot of determination,” he said. 

 

“I’ll be sure to, Lord Death. I’ll tell Lex you said that,” she replied. With that, Kid’s face vanished and was replaced with Meca’s reflection. Behind her was Lex, peering into the window.  
“Yeah, I already heard,” he said. Lex yawned. Meca patted him on his shoulder, and giggled.  
“You deserve a rest. Like Lord Death said, you’ve been working hard lately so you should sleep,” Meca said to her brother. He looked down the street, and then back to Meca. Shrugging was his response. Meca giggled a bit, and grabbed Lex’s wrist.  
“C’mon, Lexxy, let’s go home.” She tugged on his wrist, and began to pull Lex down the street. The sun laughed heartily in the sky.  
Later that day, Meca and Lex sat together in the school’s library. Meca’s focus was in a book while Lex sat next to her, head down on the table. Across from them were Al and Jack. Al was studying for an upcoming test in their class. Jack was tinkering with destroyed school supplies. Broken pencils, bent paperclips, rubber bands, tape and ripped construction paper were scattered along the table.  
Meca looked up from her book slowly, and eyed Jack. In his hand was a makeshift slingshot. He chuckled deviously, and then produced a small rubber ball from his pocket. He put it into the construction paper sling, and pulled it back. Jack’s head spun around, searching for the poor soul to test his slingshot out on. He set sights onto the sleeping Lex, and chuckled again. Meca’s curious face instantly dropped into one of wickedness.  
“Don’t even think about it,” she muttered in a malicious tone loud enough for Jack to hear. Jack stuck his tongue out at her, and got up out of his chair. He stalked off to go find someone else to pelt with rubber balls.  
“How do you deal with him?” she asked Al. Al did not look up. He kept his eyes floating across the pages of the textbook he read.  
“I don’t know. He’s my weapon. I’m his meister. Our soul wavelengths are just amazingly compatible. I just know how to handle him,” he replied. Someone yelled “OUCH” somewhere in the library. Meca rolled her eyes. Next to her, Lex stirred. He lifted his head onto his folded arms, and yawned.  
“Lex, I told you that you should go back to the dorm and sleep,” Meca said. Lex looked at her from the corner of his eye. He pursed his lips, and sniffed.  
“No Meca. I don’t need you getting hurt and I’m not around to stop it,” Lex replied. He was serious, and it was evident in the way he spoke sternly to Meca. Al had stopped reading. Instead he watched the two siblings begin to squabble.  
“I won’t get hurt while you’re not around, Lexxy,” Meca retorted. She was pouting, upset by what Lex said. She knew he was only trying to protect her like a big brother would but Meca believed she was able to take care of herself. Lex did not always need to be there. She knew she couldn’t stop him though. Unless Lex felt like she was safe, he would not let her out of her sight. Lex only eased up when she was with Al and Jack, or Abel and Gabe. As long as Lex trusted them, he would let her breath. Otherwise, he was always at her shoulder, watching like a hawk. 

“You or I don’t know that, and we won’t know because I won’t let it happen. End of discussion, Meca,” Lex had ended their conversation there. Meca poked her lip out, and turned back to her book. Lex put his head back down, and drifted off to sleep again. Al’s eyes flicked from the motionless Lex to the upset face of Meca.  
Al couldn’t do anything else except stare at Meca’s pouty lips. They were so pink, and looked so soft. He wished he could feel them with his own lips. Meca was beautiful to him. She had an innocent face unscathed by the many battles she had been in with big, luscious eyes that drew him in. Al’s heart thumped against his chest so hard, he thought the entire library heard it. He just felt so alive around her.  
Al had feelings for Meca, but would never tell her. He was afraid she would reject him. So, like Lex, he was protective of her. He would never let anyone harm her as long as he was around. Al just felt strongly about her.  
“Al? You okay?” Meca asked. Al had been staring too long at Meca, and had started blushing.  
“U-uh, yeah. I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Al said, dropping his head back down to his textbook.  
“He’s not actually. He can’t get over how pretty you are,” said Jack in a mocking, sing-song voice as he walked up behind Al. Meca began to blush too, and Al turned to Jack, sending daggers at him with his eyes. But then he stopped, staring at his weapon. A huge welt was swelling on Jack’s head, and he had a black eye. Meca looked at Jack too. She gasped, and covered her mouth. Al smiled, amused by the misfortune brought to Jack.  
“What the hell happened to you?” Al asked. Jack’s face turned grim, and he held up the broken slingshot in his hand.  
“Someone broke it,” Jack sat down in the chair he had left, dropping the slingshot onto the table.  
“Obviously, someone tried to break you too,” Al said, and Meca let out spurts of giggles.  
“Ha, very funny. At least I wasn’t doing boring stuff like sitting around here studying,” Jack gestured to a notebook, and opened textbook.  
“Yeah, well, we enjoy passing our classes,” Al said. “But you on the other hand could benefit from actually doing some work.”  
“Yeah, I can also turn into a fucking sword.”  
“Your point?”  
“My point is screw you and this work.”  
“How about you stop screwing yourself first, and try to get a D in Caine’s class before you fail the semester…again.”  
Jack’s mouth hung open. He was close to saying something, but closed his mouth and started messing with the snapped pencils, and left over rubber bands and tape to build a new slingshot. Al shook his head, and went back to reading. Meca smiled at the two boys in front of her. She knew that although they acted like they couldn’t stand each other, they would never want another partner. 

 

“Oh, quit it you two! We’re in a library,” Meca said, “stop bickering before the librarian comes over here.”  
“He started it,” Jack mumbled.  
“I also finished it,” Al said.  
Jack stuck his tongue out at Al. Al, in return, ignored his weapon’s childish act. Jack pouted and kept fiddling with the objects on the table. Meca giggled at the exchange between the two. She had never met partners, not even people, like these two. She was glad they were her friends.  
The echo of a bell being rang from the halls through the library. Meca and Al began to gather their notebooks and textbooks from the table they had sat at. Lex stirred a bit, and slowly lifted his head up.  
“We going home now?” he asked with the same old sleepy expression. Meca nodded, and Lex rose from his seat. They headed towards the exit, with Jack and Al in their wake.  
At the door, Al and Jack said their goodbyes and the two teams went their separate ways. Meca and Lex walked through the hallways, heading to exit the school. On their way down, they decided to pass by the mission bulletin just to take a quick look at what was up. Meca had only wanted to peek, and quickly scan the board before she left that day. Lex, obediently, followed with no hesitance.  
Meca read over the many requests hung up the board, focusing on one here and there but just as she was about to turn and leave, a certain paper caught Meca’s eye. It had something to do about a kishin in a weird outfit that had been seen near an old, abandoned church preaching to no one. The mission paper called him the Priest. An evil human that was dressed up and preaching, calling himself a priest? That was quite the sight.  
Meca reached up, and she snatched the paper off the board. Lex eyed the paper in Meca’s hand. She turned to Lex, and smiled.  
“We’re going tonight,” she said. Lex looked down on his little sister, making an annoyed face.  
“Do we have to?” Lex mumbled.  
“Just one step closer to turning you into a Death Scythe,” Meca replied.  
Lex sighed, and Meca giggled in response to his dismay. 

“C’mon, Lexxy,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the Reception.  
. . . . .

 

  
That night, Meca and Lex had left the academy to start their mission. They had made their way to the town, and waited around in the area around the church. The town was quaint, and not much was happening when they had first arrived.  
There were still people here and there, walking, having a conversation, or at their generic diners in the town. Yet, once Meca and Lex had moved deeper into the town, towards the towering church, it slowly turned into a ghost town. People slowly disappeared the farther they went in. Houses became more vacant, and run down. Doors and windows were boarded up. Graffiti marked the houses, and empty spray paint cans were left about carelessly. The wind whispered eerily in the air, giving the inner-town an unnerving feeling.  
Eventually, the siblings stood at the front of the church. Looking up, the church stood ominously against the rolling clouds. Lex saw no boards covering the windows or doors. To add on, the church’s walls were completely spotless of graffiti. Instead, wild vines grew up along the sides, revealing some of the shapes in the mosaic windows.  
“No sights of a creepy old pastor yet,” Meca announced. Lex took in the landscape around him. They stood on a pathway that led up steps to the large, mysterious doors. On both sides of them was a neatly cut lawn, encased by bushes. On the left side, there stood a statue of a crouching woman in long robes. Her features were witch-like, sharp and devilish. The pedestal had said something at some point, but the years the statue faced had obscured the words.  
On the right side was a tall robed human figure with long black tendrils and a white mask like a skull that was crunched in anger and seriousness. His pedestal read said “LORD”. That was Death the Kid’s father, Lord Death. Lex acknowledged the statue, and, had a sense of respect, but slowly was overwhelmed with dread. A man that was so well respected and feared, but still a father who gave love to his child and raised him.  
A father. A loving, caring father is what Lex saw on the pedestal. His head emptied as the word “FATHER” invaded his mind slowly, weighing up his brain and shoving all his other thoughts out. Father. A quick gust of cold wind blew through the yard, whipping a couple of leaves across the lawn. Father. Lex observed the statue with sadness. Dad. Lex’s face dropped into spite, and a soft tick took over Lex’s right eye. The corners of his mouth twitched every now and then. Daddy.  
“Lex?” Meca called out to her brother. At the sound of his little sister’s voice, Lex snapped back to reality quickly.  
“What else did it say about this kishin?” Lex asked. His face relaxed, reverting from a troubled look to his regular drowsy appearance. 

 

 

“I asked the Reception a couple questions. They were only able to give me various sightings of him. One person reported him having this shiny gold Cross necklace on that he kept rubbing while he was preaching. He also said he heard the guy saying weird things about a kishin god with followers rising from the darkness to do his cleansing deeds.”  
Lex looked up the stairs, and then pushed past Meca. Meca blinked a bit, and then followed behind her brother, bounding up the steps to the entrance doors.  
Lex had already noticed these doors had not been boarded up. The handles were there for anyone to go in and out as they pleased. Weird, thought Lex. Meca came up beside him, and looked at the door too.  
“Think we should just go in?” Meca asked, looking up at Lex.  
“You sense anything?” Lex retorted. Meca shook her head.  
Lex shrugged unenthusiastically. He stepped towards the door, and gripped the handles. He grunted, and leaned his weight into the doors. They creaked, and started to budge. Lex kept pushing, and the doors slowly swung inward. Lex stepped into the church, Meca trailing behind him. He looked around, surprised at how the outside of the building was clean, yet the inside was a disaster. Broken benches, debris scattered on the ground, shattered columns, and the floor above was crumbling as well.  
“Pretty sight,” Lex said as he walked down the large aisle of the church. Meca walked besides him, enchanted by the destruction of the church. She believed that it once was a probably a beautiful interior, used by many people who believed in and worshipped a kind, and graceful god that they could not fully comprehend.  
Meca had kept walking farther down the aisle until she realized Lex had stopped. She turned to look at him. Lex was standing in the middle of the aisle, head snapped back. He was staring at the ceiling, perplexed.  
“Lex, what are you doing?” she asked. Lex replied with a simple “Look”. Meca sighed, and then tilted her head back. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and her mouth hung open. On the ceiling was a giant mural. Intricate art covered the ceiling. From the middle, two different colored orbs stood unmoving in time, slowly spanning out into a righteous story. It was as if the drawings on the roof were retelling the church’s belief of the coming of weapons and meisters/  
Meca had never seen anything like this. It was an astonishing discovery. Who could have done this? She thought. Maybe the religious people who had been here before the church became the dump it was. Maybe the people who had built it had drawn onto the roof to give its spiritual followers a scene of what they believed in.  
Meca had been so hypnotized by the grand vision above her she hadn’t noticed Lex now stood next to her, with his eyes squinted at the area in front of them. It was the sanctuary of the church. Meca looked to, and noticed light beaming down, lighting a wooden pedestal that was in front of a big, velvet-cushioned chair. Behind that chair was a wall with a painting of a black robed figure with a scythe, and two halls on either side of it that went to the back of the wall. 

 

“Shh,” Lex put a finger to his lips. Meca had no idea what was going on. She wondered what Lex had heard. She didn’t hear anything. The entire church was in silence. No. There was a faint noise, coming from behind that wall. Somebody was whispering. It was a raspy, guttery voice that she could not make out. A person’s shadow slowly popped out from around the wall. Lex dove into action, moving quietly as he could.  
He grabbed Meca, and pulled her down, ducking behind one of the many rows of pews. Lex peeked around from behind the bench, keeping his eye out for whatever the shadow had been. The whispering had ceased. Meca was worried. When they had entered, they hadn’t seen anything come in behind them, nor had they seen anything when they walked in. Was whatever that thing was already inside this sacred temple? Was it their target? If not, what was it?  
Meca’s heart began to race. When she came into the church and saw the art on the ceiling, she had felt amazed, and at peace with her soul. Just standing there had put her in a serene state. But now, this place felt menacing. The church had an extreme temperature change. The degrees had just dropped. Meca’s skin felt the cold settling onto it, making her shake a bit while she crouched. A wicked darkness had flooded the church, turning it into a prison that she desperately wanted to escape right now. Sweat began to form on her brow, and her chest beat against her chest. Thump. Thump. She could’ve sworn the sound echoed across the church.  
Why was Meca feeling so afraid of whatever that was? She rarely ever felt like this. She was usually the one putting fear into her targets. What was happening now? She had yet to even see what that thing was, but she did not rush to face it. Whatever it was, it’s very presence made her nervous. The sweat on her head slowly dripped.  
“You can come out now, my children. I can feel your souls. Your precious souls.”  
That voice. That high, raspy, disgusting voice. It rang out through the church,loudly, as if he were speaking to more than just them. When it touched Meca’s ears, just the authority of it gave Meca chills up her spine. The way he had said the word souls the second time held desire for them. Lex pulled his head back, and looked at Meca. She nodded. Light engulfed Lex, and he began to transform into the form of a large machete. The form solidified and dropped into her hand.  
Lex’s reflection showed in the blade. He motioned his head to the side, and Meca peeked around the bench that she crouched behind, and saw the man who had spoken. A priest that was hunched over, standing at the wooden pedestal, motionless. His skin was pale and wrinkly, with tufts of white hair popping from his zucchetto. His eyes were widespread, with a toothy grin to go with it. This was their target.  
Meca clutched the handle of the knife, and gritted her teeth. She glanced down to Lex. In the reflection, he looked back at her. His normally sluggish face was now bent into seriousness.  
“Go.” He whispered that word for her. Meca nodded. In a fluid motion, she spun upright from her crouching position into the aisle and began to run down it to the pedestal. 

 

“Priest, your evil days are over! I’ve come to take you out!” Meca shouted as she rushed the pedestal. In response, the Priest’s smile curled up. His hands were cupped, rings flashing on his knuckles.  
“I knew one of you would come,” he retorted. Meca bared her teeth like a dog, and then leapt forward. She brought the machete down with a great force towards the Priest. But her attack was stopped in mid-swing. The blade had connected to the rings on the man’s fingers. His free hand stroked his beard. Meca’s eyes widened, and the man flicked his wrist, sending her flying across the church. Meca hit the corner of one of the benches and landed with a THUD on the ground, her hand still wrapped tightly onto the handle. She had landed on her left arm, and as she pushed herself up with her right, her shoulder began to hurt. The amount of pressure she put on it sent a sharp pain through her body. She sucked in air.  
“Meca, are you okay?” Lex asked out, worriedly.  
“Y-yeah…I’m fine,” she replied.  
“We are not on this guy’s level,” Lex told her.  
“I know. But, we still have to take this guy out. We accepted the mission,” Meca stubbornly said.  
“But, Meca, you’re in pai—“ Meca cut Lex off quickly.  
“We’re going to finish this, Lex!” she demanded. She looked up from the machete, to where the Priest had deflected her attack. He was not there anymore. Her face dropped into fear. Her eyes darted around while she lay on the floor. Where had the man gone? She couldn’t see him anywhere.  
“Meca, behind you!” Lex cried out, but his warning was too late. Meca was lurched up roughly by the strong hands of the Priest. They had looked so frail, but just his simple flick up had brought Meca to her feet. As the Priest clasped his hands onto her, another sharp pain rippled through her body. He began to drag her down the aisle back to his wooden pedestal beneath the chandelier.  
Her emotion started clashing. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh loudly. She did not want to be held by this man. She wanted to break free and take off running. His essence made her feel helpless. She needed someone to save her. Anyone. Just feeling this man’s touch made her want to die. But then, she didn’t want to die. She had no idea what was making her think that. She wanted to make tiny incisions into someone’s body with the knife in her hand, and giggle while they bled, and pleaded to be let go. She wanted to run from herself for her own safety. Meca felt her mind becoming mush in her head.  
The hilt of the machete in her hand sent a small shock into her hand. Was Lex feeling this to? What was this anyway? Was it the mere presence of the Priest’s soul? Meca hadn’t sensed anything when she first arrived so she hadn’t expected much. Yet now, she sensed an enormous power. Something she had never felt before. She couldn’t believe that all of it came from the man who dragged her so carelessly.  
Finally, he let go and tossed her onto the stage the pedestal was on. She grimaced, and looked at the Priest who looked back at her. 

“Tell me, was it the school that sent you?” the Priest asked, tilting his head.  
Meca looked the Priest over. He seemed genuinely curious for her answer. She pursed her lips, and then gave an angry sigh.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied childishly.  
Before Meca knew it, the Priest had squeezed her hurting arm. She cringed. He twisted her arm around, once more sending a searing, hot pain into her body. She seethed. This man meant to torture her if he did not get his answer.  
“I will ask again, my dearest meister. Was it the school that sent you after me?” he continuously smiled his creepy smile with his thin, wrinkled lips.  
“I….don’t know….what you’re talking about…,” Meca repeatedly through a shut jaw. She was not determined to give up so easily. The Priest saw this, and he was not going to give up either. The Priest lifted her arm up, and examined it with fake curiosity. Meca clutched her jaw, eying the preacher from the corner. He gave a disappointed “Hmph”, and then brought his elbow down forcefully against her shoulder. A loud CRACK rang throughout the church. Meca’s entire body went limp. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she screamed. The pain she felt was tremendous. It was as if all the nerves in her body had turned to needles, and were all stuck into her. But her arm felt the worse. It was as someone had set her arm ablaze. Hot, white pain surged wildly through it.  
“MECA!” Lex yelled. In his weapon form, he started glowing. He transformed back into a human and got in between the Priest and his little sister. The Priest stumbled back by surprise of the sudden change, but quickly regained his balance. Lex bore his teeth, an animalistic and vivacious look in his eyes. He stood, arms out in front of his sister, ready to attack at any moment.  
“How beautiful this is. The weapon has changed out of its meister’s use to protect her. Such dedication like this makes our Lord proud of what he created,” he said. He took a step closer, and Lex moved back a bit.  
“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll rip you apart!” Lex threatened. For a split second, the Priest saw the warning as serious. The intimidation and anger in Lex’s voice was real. His smile had broken but just as quick as it left, it returned.  
“You wish to guard and aid your meister well, don’t you? She must take very good care of you. Such a sharp blade as yourself,” the Priest said as he advanced again to Lex. Lex growled. As the Preacher stepped closer to Lex, his thoughts became more jumbled. His head was clouded, and he couldn’t think straight. His eyes darted around the spacious room, and then back to the Priest. What is this guy’s problem? What is he doing to me?  
“But, a boy with so much potential and talent inside of you should be put to use. Not helping the school to try and cleanse the world of red souls, but instead devouring the blue souls that counter us so vigilantly to become a humble servant to our Lord. Such a torn, confused mind like yours is welcomed. So much rage. So much anger. So much…madness.” 

 

Lex was confused. What the hell was this guy yapping on about? Potential? Devouring blue souls? A humble servant to his lord? Whoever this guy is, he’s fucking crazy, Lex thought. The Priest’s hands were on his chest now, rubbing away at a gold cross necklace. Lex tried to gather his thoughts together, but his head was all muddy. One thing was clear to him though. Protecting Meca was his number one priority.  
Lex glanced around the giant open space. Besides the pews on each side, the aisle allowed him free movement. Lex clenched his fist, and sprang into action. He rushed forward to the Priest, and jumped. Lex kicked his leg out to his enemy’s chest. The Priest flashed his teeth, and instantly his arm came up to block the oncoming attack. Lex grunted, and the Priest pushed Lex down to the ground.  
Lex slid across the floor, and began to get up but the Priest had already rushed him. Lex tried his best to throw a punch at the Priest, but who caught his fist and sent a flying knee into Lex’s stomach. His eyes bulged out of his head. The knee had knocked all the air out of him. Lex crumpled down, spread on the floor. His cheek lay on the floor, feeling how ice cold it was against his skin. He breathed heavily, body shaking.  
“You cannot defeat me. Not now at least. There is great power in you, but you have yet to tap into it,” the Priest said matter-of-factly to Lex. Lex clenched his teeth, and slowly began to gather himself up, gradually getting to his feet. His shoulders tumbled up and down, his face grim while he glared at the Priest. The Priest smiled in return.  
“I don’t care about anything you have to say…nobody hurts my sister like that and gets away with it!” Lex yelled.  
“Your emotion is strong for the girl. Yes. Use that anger you feel. Build it up until it bubbles inside of you like liquid. It is your adrenaline. Let the emotion fuel you to destroy me.” The Priest’s hands had once again found the golden cross, rubbing it thoughtfully.  
Lex did feel angry. He was ready to rage out on this crazy old man who spoke meaningless words to him. They had come here to simply get another kishin egg. Instead, they were faced with some demon with power beyond them. Lex could do whatever he wanted and still wouldn’t last against this villain. He had to do something. Being angry was not helping.  
Lex’s mind raced. He glanced back to his sister. She had passed out on the pedestal and now lay lifeless on the floor. Lex needed an opportunity to present itself and fast. He had to get Meca out of this place, and back to the school.  
“Answer me this, weapon. Do you wish to tap into the hidden power inside of you? To unleash all those negative emotions, and use them for your own? Do you?” the Priest asked.  
Lex was confused. He had no idea what this man was blabbering on about. Hidden power? What hidden power? Lex was just a boy with the power to turn into a weapon. He had no hidden power. He looked at the Priest, who now held his hand out to Lex.  
“Come. Join us. Let me help you unlock the ability within you. Now, you’re feeble and weak. You stand no chance against me. But, with the power you hold, you cannot become unimaginably strong. All you have to do is join us, and praise our kishin God just as we do.” 

“I know what you’re like. The rush you feel when you fight. The adrenaline. The thought s in your head. Knowing you are going to kill something. I know it all too well. Then, the results of when your hard work is finished. Eating the soul. Do not fret, knife, I am just like you. I adore it as much as you do,” he explained. The Priest was right. Lex did get a rush from fighting evil humans and kishin eggs. He loved it to be exact. The feeling he got from it was so amazing. And his favorite part was eating the soul. But it was bad people he fought and killed. He never ate a human’s soul, only kishin eggs.  
“So, what will it be?” The Priest asked, his hand still stretched out to him.  
“…” Lex did not reply. Instead, he reached out to the Priest’s hand, and put his in it. Then, he wrapped his fingers around the man’s hand, and then grabbed his wrist with his other hand. With a quick and powerful pull, Lex jerked his arm back. The tug pulled the Priest towards Lex. He collided into Lex, who head butted the Priest. The Priest was sent flying backwards onto the ground, dazed. Lex lifted up his sister and quickly ran past the Priest.  
Lex rushed bolted down the aisle to the stairs, carrying his sister. He rushed past the threshold of the open church doors. Right down the steps, through the yard, out of the court, and into the ghost town. Lex spun on his heels, and turned the corner, heading back towards the outer town. Not once did he look back as he whizzed down the streets. His pounding heartbeat matched the slap of his feet on the ground as he sprinted.  
Eventually, the sad, depressing ruins turned into the leisurely, relaxed city again. Street lights, and lanterns filled the cobblestone paths and illuminated the night of the boring little town. Lex’s running caught the attention of the few people out and about, which was what he hoped for.  
“Help! Help! My sister needs help!” Lex had stopped running so he could call out to the people nearby. A few came rushing to him. He laid his unconscious sister against a wall, as he tried to catch his breath.  
Lex stabilized his breathing, wiped the sweat that had started to gather on his face and crouched down in front of his sister. He surveyed Meca in her entirety. He looked at the arm that had taken so much damage from the Priest, gently rolling her sleeve up. What he saw beneath it was horrifying.  
Lex had not noticed it before due to the sleeve covering her frail arm, but once he had rolled it up, he could see the broken arm. Her arm was bent backwards, mangled, with a giant gash where a part of her bone had popped out.  
Lex stared at it, mouth gaping. The people that had come to Lex’s aid gasped at the sight of it.  
“What happened to her?” Someone asked.  
“That doesn’t matter right now! Someone needs to get this poor girl help!” A woman cried out.  
Lex had run as fast as he could to escape that monster. He needed to get back to school. He needed to get to the dispensary now. His sister needed help.


End file.
